


Contrapposto

by LetsHaikyuu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24164656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetsHaikyuu/pseuds/LetsHaikyuu
Summary: Semi Eita is an ex-volleyball player that now works in a coffee shop with some of his friends. He decided to take a gap year after high school, but now, 2 years after finishing high school, he’s still in the midst of finding what he truly wants to do. He is short on money because the paycheck he earns now is hardly enough for him to move out of his friend’s living room and into a decent apartment. It’s not like Tendou minds having Semi over, but he’s not the nicest of sights to wake up to for his flings, especially if they use the bathroom at the same time, so it’s about time Semi finds himself a girlfriend and move into her place.F/N L/N is a first-year art student at a humble art institute in Miyagi. She has always been into drawing and spent all of her free time aimlessly drawing to her heart's extent. From a young age, she showed promising talent and her parents pushed her to be the best she could be. It was not what she wanted and the added pressure only made her lose interest in what she was doing. When applying for this institute, she was certain there was no way she was going to get in, but here she was, surviving her first week as an art student.
Relationships: Semi Eita/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In honour of my 2k followers on Tumblr (@letshaikyuu), I have decided to post this fic on ao3 as well! Hope you enjoy it ;3

_« **contrapposto** – it is an Italian term that means ‘counterpoise’. It is used in the visual arts to describe a human figure standing with most of its weight on one foot so that its shoulders and arms twist off-axis from the hips and legs in the axial plane.»_

_**«updates every Wednesday and Saturday, starting from 16.05»** _

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: After a new figure model enters your art institute, that you are planning to drop out from, can he somehow teach you to love again or will he stay the same snarky asshole he was from the start?

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

⌈𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞⌋ - 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 É𝐩𝐨𝐪𝐮𝐞

⌈𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨⌋ - 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞

⌈𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞⌋ - 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤

⌈𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫⌋ - 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞

⌈𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞⌋ - 𝐃𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞

⌈𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐱⌋ - 𝐎𝐩𝐚𝐪𝐮𝐞

⌈𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧⌋ - 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭

⌈𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭⌋ - 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐞

⌈𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞⌋ - 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐭

⌈𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐧⌋ - 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲

⌈𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧⌋ - 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

⌈𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞⌋ - 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

_‘For someone who calls themselves an artist, you suck.’_

_‘And for someone who doesn’t have their life together, you suck as well.’_

_‘I’m not the one trying to become something I’m not.’_

_‘And I’m not the one pretending I’m okay when I am not.’_

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••


	2. BELLE ÉPOQUE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> «𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 É𝐩𝐨𝐪𝐮𝐞 - French for “beautiful era,” a term that describes the period in French history beginning in 1890 and ending at the start of World War I in 1914, which was characterized by optimism, relative peace across Europe, and new discoveries in technology and science.»
> 
> 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: profanities, abusive parents, mentioned depression and anxiety
> 
> 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

There were numerous things Semi hated about working at a coffee shop. The loud noise, the crowded space, spilled drinks on the floor when people can't keep their eyes open and arms that intentionally flail around and knock glasses off the table. He can't say that 'Primavera' is a slow-running and old coffee shop, not at all. He has been working here for the past two years and can only turn his head away when any accidents happen. But, the main problem with working in a coffee shop was the low payment.

In his hand was a small envelope that contained this month's payment. In it was the same, small amount of money, not a dollar down and not a dollar up.

_'Fucking hell, I can't live like this anymore!?'_ He let out an exasperated sigh and aggressively raked a hand through his dyed hair. Looking around the empty coffee shop, Semi looked at his friends that were joking around and talking about how to spend this month's paycheck. If only Semi could live a, seemingly, carefree life like them.

After attending the same high school, Semi's friend group (which is equivalent to their school's volleyball team) went their separate ways. All the third years found themselves in one university program or another, the second years were all flourishing in the science field, and chose programs that made your head hurt. The only first-year chose to chase after his volleyball dreams, alongside their former captain.

_'God knows where they are in the world now...,'_ Semi looked at his right fist that was unconsciously gripping the white envelope. Loosening his hold on the crimpled white paper, he angrily gazed at it. High school was not a time he was extremely proud of in his life. It had more downs than ups and was constantly giving him a headache. Yes, he was part of the school’s volleyball team, but his happiness was cut short after he sustained an elbow injury that wasn't planning on healing any time soon. Out of all the body parts, his elbow was the last part he'd pick would get injured. But, there he was. Sitting on the bench during his entire third year and watching his other teammates lining up victories. He didn't know what to do after high school. His mind was empty and out of ideas to help him overcome this obstacle. When everyone was talking about their chosen programs, Semi's response would always be: **_'I'm taking a gap year.'_**

Now, a year after that, Semi still wasn't any closer to deciding on a program he'd be content with. A program he knew he’d love and find solace in, maybe find a good job in the same field. He paid minimal rent at 'La casa de Tendou.' His best friend from high school was also a barista at 'Primavera' and offered Semi to stay at his small one-bedroom apartment close to his university. His back accommodated to the thrifted couch in the living room, but he was in no place to complain. The only thing Semi paid for was the groceries and part of the bills. Tendou was too nice to him sometimes.

The only thing he found irritating and not very comfortable are the times Tendou’s fling and he meet up in the bathroom. Yes, he is straight, but seeing the naked body of a chick his bestfriend had been fucking a few hours prior was never a nice sight to wake up to. By now, the two of them have met up countless of times that Semi doesn’t even blink. Thankfully, she remembers to put some clothes on now.

_'Speaking of the devil,'_ he whispered under his breath as excited footsteps approached his lonely figure.

_'Hey, Semi-semi! What are you sulking about now, we're eating good tonight!'_ He waved his still intact envelope in front of his face and stood proudly in front of him. Behind him, Yamagata and Reon were nodding in agreement. _'We're heading to an izakaya later, you know, to treat ourselves,'_ Yamagata's usual deep voice had an extra kick of excitement to it and Reon simply agreed.

Reon was the cashier at the coffee shop because he is the only one out of the four that can be trusted with money. Yamagata works as the baker and part-time musician whenever there's an open gig at the coffee shop. Both of them were from Semi's old volleyball team and studying at the nearby university. Of course, Semi was the only one working full-time at the coffee shop because he was the only one who doesn't have any lectures and exams to prepare for.

_'Semi-semi-,'_ Tendou's confused voice called out to his friend who slung a bag over his shoulder, not before shoving the envelope in his bag. _'I can't come with you tonight. Have fun without me.'_ Pushing past his friends and before they could even stop him and ask him what's wrong, Semi was already out the door and into the night.

Sighing, Tendou looked back at the remaining two and spoke: _'Guys, we gotta do something about Semi-semi.'_ Evoking hums of agreement and nods, Tendou stood there for a few seconds before raising his head. A small smirk was plastered on his face. _'Satori? People can't trust you when you look like that,'_ chuckling at the 'scary-looking' face of their friend, Yamagata and Reon knew that Tendou was definitely up to no good. But, with Tendou, if you're not on the receiving end of said ideas, you sit back and enjoy the show.

'I have just the thing to get Semi-semi out of his slump.' Somewhat graciously turning on his heel, he picked up his bag and jacket and headed towards the door. 'Follow me, peasants! We have shit to organize! Chop chop!' 'If we're the peasants, then why do you like a badly drawn cartoon character?' Yamagata called out to him. ’Nobody appreciates the first drafts enough!’ Yelling over his shoulder, Tendou impatiently waited for the two to join him outside. Joking about how his, non-existent may I add, pet snail moved faster than them, the walk to their favorite izakaya was filled with a very euphoric atmosphere. Can’t say the same for poor Semi.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

_’You’ve fallen behind on your school work and your paintings are getting worse, yet you still find the need to disagree with me and argue!?’_ The loud voice of your mother bounced off the small studio apartment you moved into a few weeks prior. It was still bare and decorated with minimal furniture and a tiny cactus was seated on the coffee table. Your mobile phone’s speaker was suffering and could hardly keep up with the volume of your mother’s loud screaming. ’I need to shove this cactus down her throat now,’ you muttered under your breath and put your face in your hands. The lecture continued for a good few minutes and she ended the call before you could voice out your own opinion. Groaning, you leaned back on the small couch and stared at the ceiling.

This was nothing new. Your talent ultimately became a curse because your parents were always funding you and sending you to the best artists in the area. Even at a young age, you were covered in paints, chalk, and various art supplies that they made sure you have. You showed remarkable talent at drawing and painting, always showing off your skill in art competitions. What your parents loved the most about your talent is not what people think. To them, you were a walking dollar sign and title that had the chance of excelling and becoming famous in a few years. Of course, that was not a far-fetched idea at all, what are you talking about. That’s why they’ve always been trying to ’support’ you when it came to your dreams, but all they wanted to have was the money you were going to earn in a handful of years.

It was in the middle of junior high when you started to lose interest in art because of the enormous pressure building up on your young shoulders. After school, you’d always be forced to draw and better your talent, but after countless of days, you’ve had enough. That didn’t sit well with your parents who weren’t letting you have a say in this situation.

_’You do know we’re the ones that made you who you are today.’’How can you be so damn ungrateful after everything we’ve done!?’_

Your lovely parents applied for a spot at this humble art institute close to your small studio apartment, hoping that you would get in. It was known for having numerous secrets talents that’d later flourish into the most beautiful of flowers. Unfortunately for you, you did get a spot and now are suffering through your first semester at university. You’ve made one friend and she was thankfully willing to put up with your sarcastic and depressed ass. And now, you’re suffering together with someone.

Classes regarding art history, painting classes, drawing classes, and lots of other shit took up most of the hours in your day. Art was not something you liked to learn. Institutes hardly teach you anything and most of the professors have nothing nice to say about your art and style. You’ve gotten numerous comments from teachers and peers alike that with an attitude like that you don’t deserve to be part of the institute. Yes, you may have commented a nasty thing or two, but your art was not bad. It started to suck awhile ago because of the loss of love and inspiration. But that was not your fault, your parents were to blame.

_’Ye, you turned me into a huge ball of depression and anxiety,’_ you commented while glaring at the white ceiling. The night was still young, but your non-existent friendships didn’t allow you to go outside. Or was it the anxiety? _’Fuck it, I’m making some ramen,’_ getting up and heading towards the kitchen, you missed the buzzing of your phone on the table.

_Dumba** i love_

_9:46 pm_ _helloOOO_

_9:46 pm hello_

_9:47 pm I HAVE JUST HEARD SOMETHING_

_9:47 pm WE'RE GETTING A NEW FIGURE MODEL BY THE END OF THE WEEK_

_9:47 pm WHAT IF THEY'RE HOT_

_9:48 pm AND WE FALL IN LOVE_

_9:48 pm AND GET TO f***_

_9:48 pm GODDAMMIT WOMAN ANSWER ME_

Returning to the couch, you picked up your phone to see the countless of messages on it. You chuckled as you went through each message. _’Ye right, when was a figure model ever hot F/N,’_ you typed a short reply and tossed your phone aside. Munching on your ramen, you turned on the TV, but paid zero attention to the screen and noise.

_’New figure model, huh...Maybe this will be good.’_

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••


End file.
